


It’s Getting Colder ( It’s Getting Hard to Breathe)

by crowmunchies



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Author is enby ;), Fluff, Genderfluid Klaus Hargreeves, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, No Incest, Number Five | The Boy Has Issues, Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, Number Five | The Boy-centric, Other, Platonic Cuddling, Trans Diego Hargreeves, What the hell guys I wish I didn’t have to tag that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:41:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26243599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowmunchies/pseuds/crowmunchies
Summary: The Hargreeves siblings spend a week cooped up in their new seaside home because of the heavy rain.OrIn which now that life has slowed down for the family, Five actually has to deal with being an old man in a 13 year old body, and his siblings have to grapple with how Five has changed from the person they grew up with.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Diego Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Klaus Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy) & Everyone
Comments: 28
Kudos: 598





	It’s Getting Colder ( It’s Getting Hard to Breathe)

**Author's Note:**

> Sea glass is something that can be so personal-  
> Apologies for spelling errors, ummm if u can’t tell Five, Diego, and Klaus are my favorites <3  
> P.S. - The song Five sings is You’re the cream in my Coffee, I like to think specifically the Ruth Etting version

Sunday Afternoon, 4:59 PM-

“The forecast says there’s gonna be lots of rain and high winds for the next week or so,”

Five is in his own head. He’s looking out of the window from a couch, on the ground floor in the house. Mom is making Bao for dinner, so the smell of cooking pork and good things wafts from the kitchen into his nostrils. 

He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until just now- he’d hadn’t had breakfast, or lunch today. 

“That’s too bad, I wanted to take Mom to the park this weekend.” 

The sky is grey, and looks heavy. All the clouds are low and dark, and the chill from outside seeps through the window. Five puts his palm up against the glass, and it’s very cold, but it feels nice and grounding. 

“Are you practicing being in a music video Five? God, I love doing that, especially in Diego’s car.” 

Five successfully suppresses his jump at Klaus, who has somehow gotten next to him on the couch in the past minute. Five didn’t even notice his sibling sit down.  _ I’m getting weaker. I’m getting too relaxed.  _

“Go away, Klaus.” 

“I like to run through 90’s grunge-girl bands in my head, like Veruca Salt and all that, but I think my  _ favorite  _ brain-music-video is probably holding out for a hero, but it’s like the fairy godmother version from Shrek 2, and I’m the fairy godmother,” 

Five honestly  _ wishes  _ he had the energy to verbally destroy Klaus, or at least to respond to their incessant ramblings semi-normally; but all he can bring himself to do is to drape half of his blanket over Klaus’s shoulders, because there’s no heating in the new house, (it’s old and big and was falling apart at the seams before they moved in). To compensate, they have a lot of fucking blankets between 8 now full-time residents.

Klaus has stopped talking, looking at the flannel blanket they’ve been covered in, and glancing back at Five with a bewildered sort of look in their hazel eyes. 

“You’ll catch a cold, Klaus, you have to start layering your clothes.”

Five leans away from the window, and starts flipping through his copy of  _ The Silmarillion  _ again, ( courtesy of Vanya), but Klaus doesn’t look away from him, tilting their head like they’re studying some strange specimen on the bottom of their shoe. 

“ _ What,  _ Klaus?” 

“You really are an old man, huh?” Klaus says, sounding oddly choked up, then they get up and go to the kitchen before Five can say anything. 

And Five has to deal with whatever the hell that was alone, in a blanket that suddenly isn’t warm anymore. 

That evening he can’t even enjoy Dinner, because Klaus keeps staring at him with their haunted eyes when they think Five isn’t looking. 

-

Monday Morning, 10:05 AM 

“I’m an old man Diego, why would I care about gender?” 

“That statement makes no sense Five.” 

Five folds the newspaper back on his lap, and raises a brow at Diego. These actions only seem to make his brother more agitated. 

“Don’t look at me like I’m a kid who’s been caught stealing from the cookie jar!” 

“What am I supposed to look at you like?” 

“I don’t know!” Diego throws his hands up, “We were raised in an anti-LGBT environment, in an anti-LGBT country, by a man who hated people like me so much he pushed Klaus down the stairs and broke his goddamn jaw!” 

Five didn’t think his silent acceptance was bothering Diego this much. Then again, Five has always been socially inept, and insensitive, but it’s not as if his siblings are so in touch with their own emotions.

Five pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“Diego, do you remember when we were 9, and you came into my room and cried about Dad’s new uniforms? I gave you half of my pairs of shorts, and helped you chop all your hair off with Mom’s sewing scissors,” he begins, and Diego’s anger has half fizzled out, “Why in the world would I be weird about you being yourself? I just want you to be safe and happy.” 

Now Diego looks properly chastised, ( like a kid who was caught stealing cookies), and Five feels bad, so he says as gently as he can; “I cannot comprehend your experience, Diego, but you cannot understand mine either. So, all I can do is make sure I respect and appreciate your existence.” 

Diego’s eyes, which are normally steely and piercing, are suspiciously shiny, and the dark brown of his irises has softened like melting chocolate. “That was some wise old man shit, Five.” 

Five does not snort then, even if Diego will later claim he did. 

-

Tuesday at noon, 12:00 PM. 

Five is sitting in his favorite armchair ( it’s really just  _ Five’s _ armchair), in the living room, using Klaus’s new laptop to scroll fervently through a textbook on consumption, muttering to himself about the excessive military spending of the United States, when Allison knocks on the wall beside his head. 

“What is it?” 

“It’s lunchtime, Five. I was gonna ask if you wanted to sit down and watch Mulan with me, and I can make us spaghetti?” 

“Sounds fine to me.” 

And Allison smiles, so Five decides he can sit through a children’s movie for her sake. 

When they sit down together, Five wolfs down his plate. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was, and it was really good spaghetti, so he thanks his sister. She just smiles at him again, just like earlier. It makes him nervous. 

The movie is historically inaccurate, and offensive, but it’s dated. The characters are goofy, and the songs aren’t bad. 

He doesn’t react the way she wants him to. 

“Isn’t this song pretty?” 

“Whatever you say, Allison.” 

She frowns. 

“The time periods are way off for the way the nobles are dressed,” Five says, because he’s pretty sure that they’re making commentary now. 

“That’s interesting. Oh! Claire’s favorite character is the cricket. Don’t you think he’s cute?” She points right at the screen like he’s an idiot, and maybe that’s why he responds with; “Y’know, crickets are probably the one of most tolerable bugs I’ve eaten. One time I made a soup out of them, and some roaches-” 

And they don’t make it very far into Mulan. 

“I don’t understand why you can’t just enjoy it!” Allison says, the sun is hitting her brown eyes and making them into particularly annoyed pools of honey. 

“I don’t enjoy children’s movies Allison! I’m not a child!”

“Well,  _ maybe  _ I just wanted to spend time with my little brother,” 

“I’m  _ not  _ your little brother!” He explodes, and Allison looks so hurt, so he takes a deep breath, and softens his tone, “I’m older than you, Allison, and I think you just miss Claire right now,” 

She quickly tries to deny it, but he’s her older brother. He can tell when she’s being genuine and when she’s not. 

In the back of his head he knows that Allison enjoys his company, he does, but he can’t help but feel foolishly hurt. He gives her what he hopes looks like a sympathetic expression, and jumps to his room, locks the door, and slides to the floor with his back against it. 

Five is a poor substitute for Claire. 

-

Wednesday evening, 8:30 PM-

Five has always enjoyed Vanya’s Company, because they both appreciate peace and quiet. 

“Do you want to go outside? You used to love the rain,” 

“I’d rather not.” It’s not as if he’s meaning to be rude. Infact, she knows this is him being polite, but she still looks put out. 

“Oh, okay.” 

They sip their respective tea and coffee for a moment, and the rain drums steadily on the roof. The new house is made of bricks, so everything feels stable, even if the storm is picking up outside. 

“Y’know I can still feel the weather in my joints.”

“Really? That’s strange!”. 

“I know my body’s not as old as I am, but I guess it decided to keep that trait,” he laughs humorlessly. 

“Sorry Five, that sucks.” She’s giving her sad look again, with big, doe brown eyes. 

“It’s actually strangely comforting,” he mumbles in between sips of coffee, “ At least I still have that, if nothing else.”

He wants to say to Vanya;  _ Everything’s going to okay, you know that right?  _ He also wants to say;  _ I don’t even know how old I am anymore. Your brain and your consciousness are linked, but not the same. I don’t even know what I am anymore.  _ He wants to cry;  _ My mind could crumble if it’s still 59- I could get dementia, I could age rapidly, I could get bloodthirsty again- I could start losing myself, I think I am sometimes, losing myself. I don’t belong anywhere in time, anymore. I’m not supposed to be anywhere.  _

But Five doesn’t say anything, and the rain falls steadily and heavier.

Vanya says, “We should really stop drinking caffeine past 4 o’clock.” 

They share a look, and smile. What a funny notion, like asking; “What if time stopped going?” 

-

Thursday morning-7:45 AM 

Luther was up early today for a zoom meeting with some NASA representatives, no, he  _ never  _ wants to go to space again, but now that Reginald is dead, he can share the research and samples from the moon, ( which are actually useful, thank you very much).

It went well. 

His siblings are all late to bed, late to rise, so he doesn’t expect to see Five when he trudges into the kitchen to make ( steal) some of Diego’s eggs. 

Five is cooking oatmeal in an old pot, wearing a soft looking grey bathrobe over his horrible pinstriped PJs, and pink slippers over the thickest wool socks Luther has ever seen. His littlest-oldest sibling is drinking coffee from the “foxy grandpa” mug Klaus joke-gifted to him. This would probably be funny if he didn’t look so much like an old man right now, swaddled in warm clothes and shuffling around the stove with a wooden spoon. 

“ _ You’re the cream in my coffee~”  _

Here’s the really weird part- Five is  _ singing.  _ He’s singing along to some old song that sounds like it’s from the 1920’s, hell, Luther hasn’t even heard it before. 

_ “You’re the salt in my stew, you will always be~ my necessity,”  _

Five’s singing is like an elderly person’s singing, too, - slow, tired, and dreamy- nostalgic or whatever. Luther volunteered in lots of senior care homes when he was growing up, the general “strive for good” attitude of the Academy implemented a healthy sprinkling of community service into its program. 

“ _ I’d be lost without you~”  _

And Luther is at a complete loss. 

Miraculously, he hadn’t been noticed by now, so he creeps as quietly as his hulking form allows, back up the stairs, into the hall, and whisper-screams for help. 

Five is still singing downstairs. 

His siblings all come forth, bleary-eyed and grumpy, but Luther doesn’t give a shit about helping them fix their sleep schedules for once, he hopes the look on his face is enough, and he motions for them to follow. 

They start back downstairs, sluggishly at first, but then, 

“ _ You’re the sail of my love~boat, you’re the captain and crew,”  _

And suddenly his siblings are tip-toeing and Diego is putting all his willpower into fucking fox trotting down their creaky stairs, 

“ _ You will always be~my necessity, I’d be lost without you,” _

They’re all crowding around the door-frame that leads to the kitchen now, and Five is still humming to himself. 

The rare scene in front of them is ruined when Klaus accidentally coos out loud, and Five stops singing, but doesn’t otherwise react.

Luther sighs. “ Hi Five.” 

“Good Morning.” 

Five sits down and begins mechanically shoveling oatmeal into his mouth. They all collectively hold their breath, because this is just the calm before the storm. Five is going to explode soon. 

Then nothing happens. 

“Aren’t you gonna add brown sugar or something?” Klaus asks. 

“Too sweet for me,” Five replies easily, “If you people would like to keep staring at me like I just beamed down from a UFO that’s  _ great _ , but it's a miracle enough that you’re all up this early, so why don’t you sit down and eat breakfast?” 

“Jesus Christ Five, Stop talking like that!” Diego shudders. 

“Talking like what?” 

“Like a senior citizen!” 

“Well, I’ve only got about 6 years to go, so I might as well get started. Would any of you like some oatmeal?” 

Luther turns on his heel. “I’m going back to bed.” 

-

Friday night, 9:04 PM- 

Contrary to popular belief, Five can get lonely too. 

Ever since yesterday, when Five had been _ trying,  _ key word:  _ trying  _ to have a peaceful morning, his siblings have been avoiding him like the plague. 

No one even wanted any oatmeal. 

He understood his siblings general discomfort when he used to return to them covered in blood, or when he yelled at them to get their shit together, but he’s been  _ trying  _ to relax and be kinder now that the world isn’t in danger of getting annihilated in some way, shape, or form. Key word:  _ trying.  _

The issue, as far as Five can tell, is that he is not actually 13 years old. He can’t fill whatever imaginary holes they’ve developed in their own hearts, because Five is a tired old man and so is inclined to  _ act  _ like a tired old man. 

His siblings have more brain cells than he gives them credit for, ( they should be able to figure out the reasons for his behavior), so after some angry reflection in his room, the only logical reason for this team-temper-tantrum Five can pin it on is that they don’t want Five to be an old man, they want him to be child. 

They don’t want him. 

Five jumps to a beach. 

He’s not sure where exactly he is, but it’s high tide, the Atlantic Ocean is before him, churning and spraying, and the rain feels like frozen needles lashing at his skin. 

It’s desolate, the sand looks gray, ( but so does everything in the dark), and the wind is picking up. Five never put on shoes, he’s still wearing pajamas, and he wades ankle deep into the freezing water.

It’s quite refreshing. 

There’s a lighthouse on a cliff about a mile to his left, the beam sweeps over the black waves, and something glimmers in the shallow water. 

Five picks it up, and squints. It’s sea glass, that’s probably typical enough, but that’s not why he’s so entranced. It’s the color of Vanya’s eyes. Doe brown, soft. It probably came from a beer bottle, but still, he pockets it. 

Five wades on, shivering, and his feet hurt for a couple minutes, everything hurts really, but then they grow numb and he keeps walking. 

He finds a bright green piece of sea glass, ( Klaus), honey brown, ( Allison), dark brown, nearly black, (Diego), and miraculously, a piece of sky blue glass that literally looks as if Five were to somehow extract the color from Luther’s irises. 

Not a very heartfelt way of putting it, but you get the idea. 

By the time his wrist-watch read 9:59, his whole body was feeling numb, he was tired and his breath was coming slow. He felt like keeling over. 

Five decided to head home before he passed out, and it took him a couple jumps through thickets of New England’s woods, a quaint suburban neighborhood, and finally he landed in a flash of blue and a thud on the coffee table in the living room. 

He could hear his pulse in his ears, as he lay sprawled on his back, and it was  _ slow.  _

The sound of footsteps was suddenly louder than his own heartbeat, and Klaus came bolting down the stairs, slamming into the wall on the way, eyes zeroing in on Five immediately. 

“He’s here, Diego!” 

Five feels two warm, big hands on his face, 

“Jesus Mary and Joseph, honeycomb, you’re fucking  _ freezing. _ ” 

“ _ D-don’t  _ call me that.” 

“C’mon, up you go.” And now Diego is throwing Five over his shoulder, and carrying him up the stairs.

“Put me d-down!” 

“I think he’s got hypothermia, D.” Klaus is flapping their hands and looking at Five, sick with worry, as they trail up the stairs behind Diego. 

“Of course I d-do, idiot. I waded ‘round in the Atlantic for n’ hour.” Five grits out slowly, head rolling to one side as Diego puts him on his feet, then steadies him by the shoulders, and steering him into his room. 

“Go get changed and dry off, you little brat.  _ Layer.”  _ Diego closes the door. 

And Five does, he’s 59, he’s the layering  _ master.  _ He towels off, puts on a pair of wool socks, a wife-beater, a shirt, his big navy sweater, and thick flannel pajama-pants. Then he stumbles out of his door, and Diego rushes him in the direction of Klaus’s room. 

“Where’s everyone else?” 

“Allison, Pogo and Luther went to look for you in town, Vanya and mom went to look down by the dock, so they’re gonna be piss-”

“They wouldn’t’ve found me there, I was on a big beach with a lighthouse,”

“What the hell were you doing in the ocean?! It’s raining all up and down the coast, you could’ve drowned,” Diego would look perhaps more intimidating if he wasn’t busy smothering Five in Klaus’s comforter and throwing logs into the fireplace, “Go get the heating pads, Klaus!” 

“The powers out.” 

“Then go get blankets!” 

Five feels sluggish. He startles awake when Diego puts a hand on his neck. 

“Shit,” His brother spits, “Your pulse is slow-”

Five can’t help but to lean into his hand, closing his eyes. It's warm.

“W-what are you do-ing?” Five opens his eyes, annoyed. Klaus is standing in the doorway, arms laden with extra blankets, staring. Diego is freaked out, out of his depth, emotional vulnerability and all that. Five sighs. 

“Warm.” 

Diego blinks slowly, and then laughs until no sound comes out, “ _ Warm,  _ huh?” He uses his other hand to massage his forehead, “Who knew it’d take almost freezing to death for you to act your age.”

“Do act m’age, dipshit,” Five mumbles, and pulls Diego forward by arm, “You’re jus’ stupid,” 

“If you wanna cuddle all you’ve gotta do is ask,” Klaus cuts in, and wraps the flannel blanket Five likes around the three of them. 

Five sighs in contentment, and leans against them. Klaus makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a squeal, but Five can’t bring himself to care, because he’s suddenly very sleepy, and Klaus’s shoulder is comfortable, “Why’m I in Klaus’s room?” 

“My bed is the biggest,” Klaus hums, and starts to tuck Five in, “Room for three.” 

“Right, that’s my cue to leave,” Diego starts to get up, but is stopped almost immediately by a cold fist, bunched in his shirt. 

“Five, let go.” 

Five tugs on his shirt tighter, though it doesn’t even take that much effort to get Diego laying down on his other side, because it’s very irregular behavior by Five standards.

The boy latches onto Diego’s arm like a koala, and Klaus smiles at Diego over Five’s head. He looks at them helplessly. Klaus nods their head. “ _ You’re not helping asshole _ ,” Diego hisses, and Klaus rolls their eyes, taking Diego’s hand, and depositing it in Five’s hair. 

Five freezes, and Diego thinks: “ _ I’m not ready to die by the hands of a 7th grader, _ ” but then something very unexpected happens. 

Five practically melts into his touch, and snuggles, fucking  _ snuggles  _ into Diego’s shoulder. He’s so small and cold.

Diego just goes on auto-pilot, and starts carding his fingers through Five’s still damp hair. His brother hums in appreciation, and let’s him. It’s surreal. Klaus is still grinning like an idiot, though that’s probably because Five has settled into Klaus’s arm like a seatbelt.

Diego feels, oddly, more at peace than he has in a while. The last time he felt like this, they had just averted two apocalyptic futures, and he was taking mom on her first picnic. Her smile was so real that day.

Hearing Five’s breathing even out, as the three of them are all swaddled in a blanket, that feeling of pure love is all Diego feels.   


_“I’ll give them the sea glass in the morning.”_ The boy thinks, and doesn’t feel very lonely anymore. 


End file.
